


Of Uncles and Traditions

by Nonia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Durin Family, Dwarf Culture, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonia/pseuds/Nonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin is very careful to make sure his nephews never forget the traditions of their family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Uncles and Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> In reponse to the Hobbit kink-meme prompt: 
> 
> Preferably Thorin, Fili, and Kili-centric, but all are welcome. 
> 
> I just want any situation that deals with the dwarves' creation by Aule. The holidays they might celebrate, their perceptions of death and the afterlife, the idea that they were "made in the image of a maker," and their relationship with the other children of Iluvatar. 
> 
> Especially that they were made "strong to endure," and the enmity that exists between the dwarves and growing things because Aule kept his labor secret from Yavanna, his wife.

Never, had Thorin’s heart felt heavier with the weight of their lost home, Erebor, than the moment his nephew, Fili, was presented to him. 

Standing in the wee hours of dawn, the tiny bundle in hand, arms and back stiff with the fear of crushing one so small, Thorin realised that this is one of the line of Durin not to be raised in Erebor. This one was displaced, to be raised in Ered Luin with the ruins of their home, with only memories of those who came before him to raise him, with tales and songs, and a faint hope, that maybe... one day...one day so far away they would reclaim the land. 

Thorin could feel their history, their ways, their cultures almost slip away with the realisation, and gazing into the eyes of the wee lad, his heir, his mind supplied suddenly, he felt a deep calling. 

Breath tightening, and heart beating with the crushing weight of responsibility he vowed to his heir that he would be raised right in the ways of their people, in the ways of Erebor, untarnished with the ways of others. “I will raise you in the ways of Erebor, and I shall one day give you Erebor to practice those ways in.” He whispered in the quiet. 

*****

The boy’s father was not so set in their ways as Dis and Thorin, and so Thorin had taken it upon himself to claim his right as the boy’s uncle and king to instil the old ways into Fili’s life. He began by creating and crafting the boy’s emblem into a piece of mirthril which he placed under the boy’s pillows, an acknowledgement of the crafts passed on to their kind by Aule and the Seven Fathers, may their protection and talents flow through the boy’s veins. It would later be hung around an older Fili’s neck by a thong and the pattern recreated into his clothes, weapons and armour, may that protection be with him always. 

He also took it upon himself to change the nursery’s doors, having elaborately carved doors replace them, decorated with the runes of power as tribute to those of Durin’s referenced in the olden songs. His brother-in-law had deemed it excessive, but Thorin reminded them that this room housed an Heir of Durin and Dis. Recognising an argument brewing, simply dragged her husband away. 

The entirety of the song of Durin’s Awakening had been crafted into the walls, and Thorin took every opportunity to sing the verses to his nephew, who had taken to his uncle’s voice so much that on some nights, no other voice would sooth him to sleep. Later on, when the boy would start recognising and learning his runes, he would spend hours playing the game of how many of each rune he could count in the walls, his uncle helping when the numbers became too high, for he could only count to ten by the time Dis announced the Fili would be joined by another. 

Feeling the weight of responsibility doubly so, Thorin truly did not know who he was comforting that eve; Fili, upset at another taking his place as youngest, or himself, for he knew he would love the new babe as much as the one sniffling in his arms, but it also meant he had to do right by two of them, and not the one. 

In an effort to get Fili more accepting of the thought of a sibling, a brother most likely, seeing how two thirds of the dwarves were dwarf-men, Thorin had Fili help in creating the new babe’s emblem. He had even allowed Fili, who was banned from the forges, to witness their design’s creation and even allowed him to help hold the tongs as they dipped the final product into the water to cool. 

The babe’s doors were also carved with the runes of power; however, at Fili’s insistence, instead of the song of Durin’s Awakening, they had carved the song for the King Under the Mountain onto the new babe’s walls. For it was a favourite of Fili’s even though he had yet to realise the meaning of the words and their connection to their future. Deciding to take it a portent of good omen, a song of the return of the King chosen by the child with hair of gold, Thorin had indulged and by the time all the carving and nursery was ready, so was Dis to give birth. 

Unlike Fili’s birth, the new babe was difficult in arriving. Thorin playing the rune counting game with Fili in the babe’s room until Thorin was presented with his second nephew, Kili. This, he in turn presented to Fili as he made the same promise to Kili he made to Fili, and together, they placed Kili’s emblem under his pillow, who had proved to follow in his brother’s footsteps, for nothing that day convinced the babe to sleep or stop crying but his uncle’s voice. 

*****

Needless to say, Uncle Thorin, was a favourite, and oftentimes idolised presence in the boys’ lives. He told them stories and sung them songs. And as they grew older, he taught them lessons, in life, in crafting, and later, in weaponry. 

It was when both were very young, that Thorin had the chance to teach them one of the Dwarves’ most sacred stories. Kili and Fili had been playing in the hallway between their rooms when the sound of something breaking was followed by a cry of anger, a yelp of pain and Kili wailing. 

Rushing to the boys, Thorin and Dis were confronted by the sight of Fili unhappily trying to put together his broken stylus that had been a gift from Thorin and was carved with Fili’s emblems. An open primer showing he had been practicing his runes. Kili on the other hand was holding his ear from where Fili had hit him and was sobbing his little heart out. 

Dividing forces, Dis picked up Kili while Thorin knelt in front of Fili who resolutely did not meet Thorin’s eyes as he tremblingly said, “He broke it.” Still trying to put the pieces together. 

Thorin asked softly, “Why did he break it?”

Fili snuffled and looked away, Thorin gently forced his nephew to face him, “Fili, why did Kili break it?”

The boy took a shaking breath, “He said the rune was wrong. Not like the ones on the wall.” Thorin looked at the primer, and sure enough, the lines of the rune slanted downward instead of upward. 

Kili chose to interrupted, “I fix! I help!” still holding a hand to his ear. It was an exercise of deduction on a good day to understand what the young boy was saying; it was neigh impossible while he was distressed.

Between the pair of them and a few more questions Thorin and Dis finally deduced that Fili would not admit his mistake in the rune, too proud to have his younger brother correct him, and Kili, wanting to help his brother realise the mistake had tried to write it for him resulting in a tussle that broke the stylus. Both boys declared that they would never forgive the other, for Kili broke the stylus and Fili hit his brother. 

Settling on the ground with his back against the wall, Thorin took Fili onto his lap, and motioned Dis to hand him Kili. Gravely he told the boys, “I shall tell you of the creation of Dwarves. For if Aule could admit to wrong-doing, and Illuvatar could be so forgiving, Kili and Fili could do no less.”

*****

One tradition Thorin had wished he would never have his nephews experience so closely at an age so young were the rituals of putting the dead to stone.   
He had been the one to approach Dis as they were away on their lessons, to tell her of her husband’s passing. Bandits had accosted the carts heading to the mines with supplies and food, and her husband had been one of the fallen defending the carts. 

Leaving Dis in the capable hands of cousins, he had collected the boys from their lessons early, and taken them home, and held them close to him as they cried their grief and confusion into his beard. Fili understanding the loss more than Kili, whose tears stemmed more from the upset of seeing his loved ones cry in heartbreak. 

He was loathe to have them partake in the funeral rights, but Dis had insisted on tradition for once and Thorin could not refuse his grieving sister her wish. And so, he had taken the lads with him deep into the heart of the mountain the very next day where they would carve shelves into the stone for those who have passed, to be enclosed in the stone until recalled to rebuild Middle Earth after the Final Battle. 

Fili had insisted on helping chisel his father’s name unto the stone, Kili too afraid of the number of shelves had done nothing more but cling to his Uncle or whoever was farthest from the rows and rows of shelves containing those who have passed before them. 

Finally, after all five shelves had been hewn and carved. The Dwarves, singing a song of lament and bravery, marched to collect the bodies of the five dwarves lost in the skirmish. Kin carrying their lost one to the shelves and sliding them into their final rest. 

Kili found his courage to help slide the slab closing his father’s shelf before clinging to his uncle’s sleeve and refusing to let go. Giving the final farewells and blessings to the dead, Thorin collected his nephews, dazed and overwhelmed by the experience and took them to their home, their mother begging Thorin to stay with the boys for the night. Acquiescing, Thorin stayed while Dis got the lads ready for bed. He admired her, for attending to the boys through her grief, and it was as he sat with the boys, who for once, insisted on sleeping in the same bed rather than each his own, that Fili asked quietly, “Where did Da go?” and Kili asked with a sniffle, “Is not cold? In shelf?”  
And so Thorin taught them of Mandos, and Aule and Aule’s halls of waiting and the Final Battle and the Dwarves’ summons thereafter. 

Assured that their Da was comfortably in the care of Aule, and that they would meet him again one day, the boys were able to sleep slightly better than the previous night.

*****

A couple of years later found Thorin Oakenshield, King-in-Exile, awoken by an elbow to the gut and another to the face as his two nephews jumped on him. “Wake up, Uncle! Wake up! It’s Aule’s day! The fair has already started” Kili’s voice rand out while Fili tugged on his arm, “Ma’s already at the fair! She said to wake you! Come on, Uncle!”

Thorin groaned deep in his throat, making the boys giggle, for their mother insisted that Thorin’s voice sounded like a bear’s at awakening, and that his demeanour was not so far from one at first light. “You promised I can compete this year, uncle! You promised! We need to sign up soon!” Fili insisted as he tugged Thorin into sitting up.   
Kili pouted a little, still too young to be allowed to participate in the competitions, but allowed to play in the games. 

Aule’s day was a celebration of the crafts Aule had taught their kind. Celebrated at mid-summer of every year, chiselling competitions, rock pushing, metal work, and the like were organised. Booths of readymade crafts were set up, and many a song and game to be played. And if they were lucky, the wizard Gandalf made an appearance with his fireworks!   
Fili was to compete for the first time, opting to complete in the beginner’s metal work competition, where a design is presented and had to be recreated within a set time. The best craftsmanship would win a prize. It was a sore spot for Kili that he was yet too young to compete, but made up for it by winning at the games, he was especially adept at those that required accuracy, winning prizes at darts and wooden axe throwing at a target drawn on sheep skin. 

Thorin was glad Kili had won at his games, for it made him more gracious and amicable to cheering his brother on as his competition had started. For as close and supportive as the brothers had grown after their father’s death, the one thing that always drove a wedge between them was the sense of competition. 

He was doubly proud, when around the great fire, he noticed many of the younger ones struggle with the words to Aule’s song, but his nephews had sung it perfectly with the adults. 

For the first time, he felt a slight weight lifting from his shoulders; they would not forget the old ways, his nephews. They would not. 

****

It was a few moons later, in the middle of a winter so harsh they had not seen the same for many a year, that Kili had fallen ill with an illness of the lungs. Mucus had gathered in his lungs, and he coughed and ached and refused to eat.

They had feared for him for a while, for no amount of steam or ointment or medicine seemed to work. It was on a particularly foul day, full of rain and wind, with Kili whimpering in pain of an earache to complicate matters, with Dis bathing his forehead and rubbing his chest with mint paste, that Fili had borrowed into his Uncle’s side and fearfully asked whether Kili would be joining their Da in the halls Aule had set aside for the Dwarves. 

Thorin held his nephew close to him as he reminded him that they were Dwarves and that Aule had made them in his image. He reminded Fili that the Seven Fathers, despite beginning life in fear of being smitten as Illuvatar had granted them life, had endured and were strong and did great deeds. 

So he again found himself with Fili in his arms, unsure whether comforting himself or Fili as he told him, “Your brother is a dwarf, strong and hardy, made to endure... he will pull through. You will see.”

And it was a good day, the next day, when Dis greeted them at the breakfast table as she prepared soup for Kili, announcing with a smile, “His ear does not ache, and he is hungry. He is recovering.”

*****

Thorin had witnessed many a Durin’s Day in his time; however, one only stood out in his mind. It was as the boys were at an age when the loom of responsibility was about to become reality, when they were very close to an age where childish antic would be frowned upon instead of being indulged. 

He woke up to someone poking his nose and someone else jumping on his middle. Growling, he flung the boys off him much to their amused laughter. “The world was fair in Durin's Day and may it be fair in yours!” they greeted him. 

Thorin managed to growl out, “and yours...” only to be pulled out of bed completely, when had they grown enough to do that? They could barely lift his arm before.   
Staggering to his feet, he glared at them for being so cheerful in the morning only to be urged to wash up and join them for breakfast. 

He heard Dis being woken up, much gentler, he could tell and grudgingly made his way to the breakfast table only to pause. They had the table already arranged; traditional foods eaten on the day, no doubt someone like Bombur had helped them prepare this feast, it was beyond their skill, was placed on plates silver and gold, etched with images of Durin’s song, one of the very few things salvaged from Erebor. 

It was a day of beginnings, it was their New Year’s day and tradition dictated that one must receive something new on the day, lighten another’s spirit on the day, and feast with family and kin to symbolise a renewal of their bonds and a hope for better things the coming year.

He found himself smiling at the lads’ gesture. For certainly this had lightened his spirit, for ever it was Dis who prepared the morning feast. Dis’ delighted exclamation at the surprise had the boys grinning; with Kili confessing that they worried they might have done something wrong. Reassuring them that the table was set perfectly, Dis and Thorin sat to breakfast, being waited upon by the lads. 

It was after that both nervously presented Dis and Thorin with small boxes, telling them that they had made them together, during their time apprenticing in the forges.   
Thorin opened his box to find a ring, in the form of a plain band, with the runes for Th and O etched onto it. Dis found a similar ring with her own rune upon it.   
Hugging both, and kissing each on the forehead, Thorin proudly wore the ring on his left hand every day after. 

He had originally planned on gifting them in the eve, but decided otherwise. Presenting them with new personalised swords, each with his emblem integrated into the design, they hugged him and said, “Thank you, Thorin.” Thorin felt a slight bittersweet moment as they each tested the weight and grip of their weapons. When had his boys grown enough for him to be gifted swords and for him to become Thorin and not Uncle Thorin?

****

It was after one of Kili’s first runs as part of the border patrol that the boy had returned home despondent. Neither Thorin nor Fili could prevail to make him tell them what’s wrong. However, during that night, when Thorin and his nephews sat by the hearth that Kili asked, “I know the elves betrayed us...and did not help...but is that the only reason they are hated?” 

Thorin instantly knew someone must have commented on Kili’s choice of bow as primary weapon, for it would not be the first time. Thinking carefully on his words, for while it was uncommon but not unheard of for a Dwarf to choose bow and arrow, it was still seen as an Elvish weapon. “I have told you plenty, of the creation of Dwarves... let me tell you of the creation of the other children of Illuvatar.... and how Illavatar foretold strife would arise between the Dwarven race and the Elven race as the events of the world unfolded.”  
He concluded the history with clasping Kili by the shoulder and saying, “It is folly, not to appreciate another’s talent or strength, even if an enemy. The elves are formidable fighters with a bow, and that must be acknowledged.”

Finally gaining a smile from Kili who had not smiled all day, Thorin bid his nephews good night and retired, promising himself to seek the leader of Kili’s patrol and put an end of this bowman vs. axe nonsense. 

*****

The day their Uncle’s summons arrived weighed heavily on Dis. He had told them to wait for word from him as he went to a meeting of their kin. The boys had been obsessed with the signs Oin had read, and were pouring obsessively over any and all songs of Erebor, as if preparing themselves of what they would see once Erebor was reclaimed. 

When the summons came, Dis could not help but fret over the boys, now 82 and 77, so young, still so young. She kissed both on the head, and hugged each. They allowed her to fret, to straighten coats and tighten hair clasps, her latest Durin’s Day gift to them. Finally, she asked whether they had their charms on. Both pulled out their emblems from under their tunics, forged by their uncle for them when they were babes. Nodding in satisfaction and tucking each of the emblems back into tunics, when had her boys grown so broad in shoulder and strong in chest? Dis bid them be careful yet again and sent them on their way, closing the door to the sound of the boys singing the song of the King Under the Mountain. 

“Durin protect them.” She whispered, twisting the ring they had made her on her finger in worry, she held to the promise Thorin had vowed that this quest would not send them to join their Da, “I would hear them sing again. By Aule, let this not be the last song I hear from them.”

**Author's Note:**

> Reference to the emblems: http://heirsofdurin.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/177285_368965036530187_737456107_o.jpg
> 
> Durin's Awakening song: http://tolkien.cro.net/talesong/durin.html
> 
> King Under the Mountain song: http://tolkien.cro.net/talesong/mountain.html


End file.
